Pyke x Reader: Harrowing
by Tally Winchester
Summary: As a tradesperson aboard a cargo vessel, you've been to Bilgewater many times... but this time was an accident. Your ship was sunk by The Harrowing, and you feel yourself drowning...


You were dreaming. It was a strange dream: quiet and loud, colorful and monochrome. There was no explaining it, and you had already forgotten it as you were jolted awake by the sounds of gunfire. Above on the deck, you heard the crew screaming and running about. It was pitch black, and you frantically searched for a source of fire to light the lantern by your cot. You threw your boots on and scrambled up the ladder.

It was nighttime, but the fire igniting the mast of the ship brought light on the chaos. You grabbed for a shipmate and flipped him around to face you.

"What the hell is going on?" you shouted. Your voice was almost lost in the noise. Your frightened friend just shook his head and pushed your hands from his shoulders before he fled. You had no time to react before he leaped over the side of the ship.

You looked to the sky and saw it then, a dark, swirling mass of green mist; it was intimidating and terrifying, though all rational thought argued it. The wails of men rang in your head, screeching and reverberating in your skull. You clamped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening around you.

The white noise grew louder, and before you realized what had changed, the sea had swallowed you whole.

The sinking ship created a vortex, and you kicked. You reached for the surface that only flew farther away from your desperate fingers, as did the light of the burning vessel. Your eyes wide with fear, your lungs burning... this was it. Whatever just sunk your crew had claimed you, too. Your eyes closed and your arms went limp above your head.

Fingers touched your lips and you gasped for breath under the waves. Alive! Alive, and somehow you knew how... his face appeared in front of yours, and he had his hands cupped your jaw as you collected yourself. He collected you in his arms and swam, propelling you both toward the surface like a sailfish.

You spat water as you coughed, the salt and soot splattered all over the dock. The screams hadn't stopped, and you were surprised to feel embarrassed being this vulnerable at the Fisherman's feet.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice warbled and gritty as always. You spat and wiped your mouth. Was the answer not obvious? He pulled you up by your arm so you were back on your feet.

"We have to go. It's not safe here." He looked like a hawk, searching for threats. You snatched your arm away from him and took a step back.

"Pyke, what the hell is going on?" You snapped. A woman shrieked nearby, and you watched as she, too, leaped from the docks and into the water. She didn't come back to the surface.

"Harrowing," he replied. His eyes rested on yours, and you were shocked to see the slightest tinge of worry in them. "I'll explain when you're someplace safe."

You didn't want to argue. You followed closely behind him, keeping your footing.

There was an inn, and the bottom piece normally served as a bar. The door was boarded shut, which seemed strange. Pyke grabbed you and pulled you through the wall seamlessly, as if there were an open door. He leaned you against the wall and hesitated. There was no one here. The place was dark, except for the eerie green glow from the Mist outside. You sunk to the floor, taking the past several minutes into account. He stood over you for a moment, in some sort of protective understanding.

"The Harrowing," he began. "There's a long story about the Shadow Isles and how it got... sick. All you gotta know right this moment is it's pissed, and Bilgewater is the closest thing for it to leak into. Happens once in a while."

You scoffed. He talked about this like it didn't just sink your ship and probably the Captain with it. Though you supposed he had been through worse.

"What do we do?" You asked, ruffling your hair nervously. He looked around, surveying the bar. He paced for a few seconds and peeked out a window.

You screamed at the sound of shattered glass. A creature had used it's face to break a window on the other side, and chewed at what remained of the glass in the window frame; it's teeth and lips were sliced and bleeding, and the Mist rolled off its tongue. You were so shocked, you hadn't realized you weren't screaming anymore.

Pyke drew back his harpoon and threw. It landed with a wet THUNK in the thing's skull and returned to his hand. The body slipped under the broken window.

"Not safe," he growled. He looked like he was searching for something again, and then said, "Stay here."

It felt like a burst of air as he dashed through and behind the wall you sat against.

Your chest tightened. He left you alone, after that? Your eyes were fixed on the broken window and the little streams of Mist that slithered through the shattered glass. You pulled yourself onto your shaky legs and over to a wooden chair that had been toppled on it's side in the excitement. You brought your boot down on it and it broke. You picked up a leg and held it like a knife. It was a sad excuse for a weapon, but at least it had a sharp point if anything with flesh decided to come through that window.

You backed against the wall, faced the broken window, and held the chair leg with both hands. It was only a few minutes until a pair of hands grabbed you from behind and sunk you through the wall again.

"Damn it, will you please just let me use a damn door like a normal human?" You snapped, throwing the chair leg onto the ground. Pyke looked offended for a moment.

"Let's go," he said. You followed him quickly and quietly through the market alley, until he stopped you. You crouched and waited. He sunk into a wall and appeared as a shadow for a moment; the shadow slinked around the corner and then returned. He stepped down out of the wall and signaled for you to follow again, silently.

This place was the Slaughter Docks, and it certainly smelled like it. Above the center of the circle hung a giant creature's corpse, still slowly dripping blood into a deep drain in the ground. It was easily a hundred feet long. He fumbled around for a moment in one of the vendor stands, and you scoffed as he pulled up a sack of coins.

"Is now really the time?" You crossed your arms. He opened the pouch and handed you a little silver coin.

"Financial support." He chuckled, and stuffed the sack in his belt.

A moment later, Pyke's hand grabbed your shoulder and he pulled you back behind a market stand. You peeked, and another creature rounded the corner, dragging elongated arms behind it like heavy chains; it's mouth was a disgusting oval, stretching inhumanely down to it's sternum. The Mist poured from the gape, and it's sunken black eyes were fixed on the sky.

"Take this," Pyke whispered, handing the dagger to you. It was much heavier than you thought, and you found yourself speechless wondering what he had planned. You watched his shadow swim towards the monster.

The creature was forced to his knees by a ghostly force. Pyke grabbed the thing by the back of the head and brought it down onto his knee. He let go, and his knee making a squelching sound as it was pulled from the corpse's mouth-hole. He turned to you, but was suddenly knocked down by another creature.

You startled and gripped his blade and the coin, watching helplessly as he wrestled the thing. His hands were in either side of the creatures mouth, trying to keep it from biting him. He was struggling. Pyke needed his weapon, and you had it. Why did he give it to you?

Your knuckle turned white as you gripped the coin in a fist. You felt so helpless, so utterly helpless...

But you weren't helpless.

He grunted loudly and tried to push the creature off of him. The dagger stuck in the thing's head, and it went limp on his body. He whipped his head to you and smiled under his bandana as the dagger returned flawlessly to your hand several feet away.

"Nice hook, kid," he chuckled, pushing the dead thing off of him. You approached and helped him to his feet.

"Let's get the hell out of here," you sighed. Pyke brushed off his pants.

"Gimme that, first."

You handed him his weapon, almost reluctantly.

You came upon a grate in the street, and the Fisherman stopped before it. He hooked the back of his dagger to it and lifted, revealing a small crawlspace with a ladder leading down.

"Safer down there," he grunted, tossing the metal grate aside. "You ok going first?"

It seemed like there wasn't much of a choice. You stepped onto the ladder and descended. Your boots clanged on each step, and the echo made it sound like whatever was down here was very spacious. There was no light as you stepped onto solid ground. It made you anxious. Pyke appeared beside you and lit a lantern. You took a moment to wonder where he got the lantern, and also if it would be too much for him to use a ladder.

The place was simple and surprisingly not disgusting, for what you believed was a drainage system beneath the Slaughter Docks. You walked with Pyke for a moment until he found a semi-dry spot of concrete. He sat, his belt jingling with coins and metal. You sat beside him and sighed.

"Should be safe here til it blows over." He said. He set the lantern down on his opposite side.

"Mm," you were at a loss for words. You were exhausted and overwhelmed; you rubbed your eyes in silent hope that when you opened them, everything would be normal. But this was normal now, it seemed.

You laid your head on his lap, unconcerned what he thought.

"You saved my life back there," he stated. You chuckled with your eyes closed and replied, "You aren't alive."

He actually laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe we can do this again next Harrowing, then we can be even."

Your eyes opened.

"Next Harrowing?" You asked.

He laughed again and rested his hand on your head, letting a few strands of your hair run through his fingers.


End file.
